


Hunted

by Katzedecimal



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Eldritch, Fear, Gen, Spooky, Suspense, Thunder and Lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/pseuds/Katzedecimal
Summary: Lightning speared across the sky and the crack of thunder hurt his ears.  He slid from shadow to shadow, clinging to the doorways, oozing through the violent night.  If he’d had a heartbeat, it would be hammering.  This wasn’t an ordinary gale.  He could sense the malevolence.  This was ariddenstorm.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62
Collections: SOSH - Guess the Author #07 "Big Spooky Fan Me."





	Hunted

Lightning speared across the sky and the crack of thunder hurt his ears. He slid from shadow to shadow, clinging to the doorways, oozing through the violent night. If he’d had a heartbeat, it would be hammering. This wasn’t an ordinary gale. He could sense the malevolence. This was a _ridden_ storm.

He clamped his aura down tightly and fled.

They were called the Thunder Hags. They rode the storms like humans rode horses. The lightning was their whips. He’d thought they were myths but now he wasn’t so sure. The wind plastered his wet hair to his face and tugged at his sunglasses. Whatever it was, it was _hunting._

Nearly at Soho. He could run faster as a snake but he didn’t dare change his shape or use any of his powers, not in _this._ He slunk around a corner onto a familiar street. _Nearly there._ He jogged quickly, sidling along the walls and doorways, nearly blinded by the rain. A transformer exploded, plunging the street in darkness. When the crossroads came in view, shrouded in the heavy rain, he bent into the wind and ran. 

_Where’s the bloody bookshop?!_

He whipped around, frantic. He could _feel_ **it** , whatever ‘it’ was, approaching with the gust pushing a wall of water down the street. _Searching._ He whirled around and- 

He started hyperventilating as he realised what had happened. If he **didn’t** look at the bookshop out of the corner of his eye… He swallowed hard and set his back against the wall of the neighbouring store, inching along until a door swung open behind him, dumping him arse-over-teakettle into the bookshop.

“Crowley, get back here immediately! Quickly, before she notices you!”

He got his feet under him and ran into the back room. “Angel…” he panted.

Aziraphale pointed to a chair, “Sit beside the stove.” He took the kettle from the hob and poured water over coffee in a French press pot. Lightning sizzled and struck, blinding then leaving them in eery darkness. Aziraphale struck a match to light a few candles, then washed his hands with patchouli-scented soap.

“You’ve warded the bookshop,” Crowley gasped, trying to get his breath back, “Who- Who’s after me?”

“The Archangel Michael. She’s looking for some other demon but it won’t go well if she finds you.” He handed Crowley a mug of coffee. “My wards can’t stop her if she tries to come in but they’re enough to warn me.” He noticed the way Crowley was shaking. “My dear, you’re freezing.”

Crowley was shivering so hard he could barely shrug, “You know how it is with snakes…”

Aziraphale sat down near the stove with his own coffee and reached for a book, “It **is** rather spooky out there, isn’t it?”

Crowley gulped down his coffee then shifted his form, timed with the miracle Aziraphale used to light his oil lamp, and slithered up around the angel’s neck, under his cardigan, “Well you know me… big spooky fan, me.”

Aziraphale just smiled.


End file.
